Ithildin
by Calmer of the Storm
Summary: A romance of epic proportions was foretold for Eragon's future, for good or ill, and has yet to see it come to pass. When a new, albeit reluctant, rider makes it to the lands beyond Alagaesia, will she bring with her the fulfillment to this prophecy?
1. Prologue

Calmer of the Storm: I'm probably going to shoot myself later for this, but it's in my head and I want to get it out, haha.

Having just finished _Inheritance_ I, as well as many, I'm sure, was rather disappointed at the ending. So I write this story as a continuation, set many years in the future and upon a distant land that has its own problems. I don't write it to fix my own Mary-Sue with our dear Hero; I do it because I do not believe that Eragon and Arya had this 'epic' romance that was foretold, according to my own understanding of the word.

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><p><span>Ithildin<span>

"_An epic romance is in your future, extraordinary, as the moon indicates - for that is the magical symbol - strong enough to outlast empires. I cannot say if this passion will end happily, but your love is of noble birth and heritage. She is powerful, wise, and beautiful beyond compare."_

–Angela , _Eragon_, 'The Witch and the Werecat'

**Epic: **_**adjective**_

1. Noting or pertaining to a long poetic composition, usually centered upon a hero, in which a series of great achievements or events is narrated in elevated style.

2. Heroic; majestic; impressively great

_3. O__f unusually great size or extent_

_Prologue_

The streets of the vast city of Ilirea were empty save for the few, poor guards who were charged with remaining at their posts and the fools who thought it wise to brave the persistent deluge of rain that poured from the sky. The soft glow of lanterns and window lights were muted by the curtain of rain, making the city almost pitch black. The streets were slick and small rivers had formed on the outside, rivers that flowed into water stores and drains. The pounding of the rain drowned out all other sounds, making conversation even indoors difficult.

There was one such figure, however, not enjoying the warmth of the hearth as she should have been. Truth be told she had no true hearth; just the make-shift one she'd set up with the others like her on the edge of the city near an older, crumbling building. And that hearth might not even be there for her to return to, if the guards decided they were grouchy enough to displace them once more. It had become the story of her life, ever since it all fell apart.

For a young woman who'd once had it all made, this was a far cry from the life she'd thought she'd have. According to her she'd say that it was of no fault of her own; it wasn't her fault that her father's small empire (for that's what he'd called it) was on the very outskirts of the land and thus out of sight and mind of the oh-so-wise rulers of Alagaesia. It wasn't her fault that a particular band of Urgals had decided to test out her father's defences, and it certainly wasn't her fault when that band of soldiers, drunk on the wines of some other spoils, had decided to take advantage of her father's weakened estate.

Ilia sat sheltered for a moment beneath an overhanging balcony. She was soaked to the bone; her cloak rendered useless within the first few minutes of being out in the rain. Still she clutched it tightly around her body, desperately hoping to save at least some of the warmth her body was trying so hard to give off. The hood had been drawn up over her face, delicate features hidden beneath the shadows it casted across her skin. Hints of straw-colour hair appeared around the edges of the hood, though the colour darkened significantly in the lighting and the rain.

The young woman had only been living in the streets of Ilirea for two years. At nineteen she was rather small for her age; they said it was because she wasn't eating very much. That was true, though her mother had been small in stature and her father not a great man in height or width either. She bore a strong resemblance to them both, but no one would ever be able to know that. The depth of knowledge that was held in her emerald eyes, however, suggested wisdom beyond her years; wisdom born of experiences that no person her age, or any age really, should ever have to endure. But she had, and she was here now.

The massive green towers of the castle stood in front of her, not quite the beacon of hope that many claimed it to be. It was not the first time she'd seen them up close but it was the first time she'd stood here with the intention of entering. She had moved from her shelter and was now standing out in the rain; there was no point in waiting any longer. Her smooth jaw was clenched tightly shut and pink lips were pressed into a thin line as she stood there a few moments, the rain beginning to drip down the pale skin of her back, for her shirt beneath the cloak was also wet. Drawing in a deep breath, the girl moved forward.

Ilia knew that there were wards; she'd spent last two years living in their midst. It wasn't that she was a magician; far from it, in fact, but even if she was she had no intentions of mentioning it. Of course, that would be difficult to hide in such a city, so he was thankful that her abilities were really more just…sensitivities. Magic was something she could sense, and while she could not cast her thoughts outward she could defend herself well enough. A decree was in place that all those with magic ability were to swear a binding oath of fealty to the ruler; this was to ensure that there were no insurgents every again. The old histories of the evil king Galbatorix and the subsequent 'New Age' had been drilled into the head of every child in Alagaesia, and despite her distance from this capital or any other she knew them all by heart. As a young child she'd loved them; the stories of the great rider Eragon had accompanied her in her dreams many times. But after watching the empire, watching her father swear fealty to a king he didn't even know and then watch as the promised protection ended up his downfall. Ilia might have been happy if the soldiers had stopped there; if they had not killed her betrothed and taken her virtue as well. And she might have felt justice and peace if it had truly been served…no. No she wasn't going to be a part of a system that hailed its tormentors as heroes and put its noble citizens out on the streets.

What she was doing now was merely an act of rebellion. She'd had no formal training in magic, for her father had wished to protect her from having to bind herself to the empire as he had, but she'd picked up a thing or two on the streets. Two days ago they'd held the ceremony of passing each and every inhabitant of the city by a pair of rather delicate-looking dragon eggs; they were looking for the next riders. It was something that happened once a decade; or at least, the eggs began their traverse through the country once a decade and oftentimes it was longer than that for one to hatch. To find the riders…that was the difficult thing. She'd thought that everyone was to be given the chance, but then she and those with her had watched with rage and horror as only those deemed worthy, those who had passed a rigorous amount of testing, had been able to do it.

It was absolutely infuriating. The Dragon Riders were revered in song and in tales even now; and apparently that man, that Eragon, was still master of them all. Those who dwelt in Alagaesia now toted tales of being with him; of crossing blades and having long discussions with him. How any single man could be so great Ilia didn't know, and she didn't care to find out. If this Eragon was so great, he wouldn't have left the Empire to fall to the state it was in now. Perhaps her view was jaded, but she didn't care. She had been slighted and cheated out of every good thing in her life; if the empire was so great, surely something good would have come her way by now.

Getting passed the walls of the castle was surprisingly easy. Every now and then a small rebellion would crop up, however with one or two Dragon Riders to sort things out they never lasted long. It was always done with diplomacy, something that bothered her to no end…where were the Dragon Riders when _she_ needed them? When her father and those who lived on their estate did? Her ire fuelled her on; she was simply looking to prove a point. And, she had to admit, there was a latent curiosity; something in her that wanted to see a dragon egg up close. It was the closest she'd ever get to one of the magnificent beasts, and she wasn't going to pass this up. As it stood she lived on a day-to-day basis…tomorrow just might never come.

The passage into the castle was a little more difficult, but thankfully she was rather adept at scaling buildings (within reason, of course) and so getting up to the first-storey window and inside wasn't so bad. When her feet touched the stone floor she waited to see if she had alerted anyone; magician or otherwise, and when it came clear that she hadn't she quietly padded her way through the castle.

It was surprisingly easy…perhaps too easy. There wasn't a guard in sight; at least, not a competent one. A few were asleep. It was only when she reached the hall where the dragon eggs were housed that the magicians and soldiers out front were attentive; no matter. She knew there was another window to climb, even if it would be precarious. It took longer but she found her way to the back of the room, for she'd scouted out the castle before, and found the window. The trick would be to do it successfully and quietly, and without getting found out by a magician or two. If she did that…with her luck, she'd probably be put to death.

Once she did manage to get up to the window, the question was to get back down. The eggs were on the far side of the room, sitting on a stone dais as if it were some kind of altar. She scoffed a little; there was even a pillow to support either one…what, did the baby dragons need comfort? She couldn't imagine that it was all that nice crumpled up inside of an egg like that…well, maybe it was. Who knew?

The trek down was precarious and she was running out of time, and once she got to the bottom she realised that getting back out without getting caught was going to be highly unlikely. Ilia let out a soft chuckle to herself; well, that had been stupid of her. Well, at least she could say that she'd gotten into the castle undetected. Perhaps if she could just get out of this room before they caught her she could claim that she was just an adolescent acting on a dare. She was nothing more than a street rat, after all, surely they wouldn't care.

Carefully the young woman strode to the end of the room, aware that there were many enchantments here. The dragon eggs too, which meant she couldn't touch them…wait. No, only one of them did. How odd, she thought; why only protect the one? Well, it made her choice quite simple.

Gingerly she reached out with both hands, plucking the smooth egg from its spot. It was oddly warm; there was a pulse from inside of it that reminded her of a heartbeat. The colour was a muted silver, though she suspected that with a good amount of light it would shine brilliantly; perhaps a metallic silver or a deep pewter…she couldn't really tell. What she could see, however, were all the tiny facets that made up the hard shell, and nothing would break through it. To think that a thing so small as this could one day turn out to be a dragon…

She felt something move, in her mind and in her hand, and the shock of it caused her to jump backwards. Consequently she let go of the egg, allowing it to fall to the ground. The resounding _crack_ that reached her ears sent her heart plummeting to the ground.

"Oh _merdre_," she swore, emerald eyes wide and limbs starting to tremble. She'd just _killed_ an unborn dragon. If that wasn't a warrant for death, she didn't know what was.

It was at this point that the doors to the room burst open, and a band of rather furious magicians and soldiers tumbled through it. Immediately she felt the assault on her mind; she was done for. They would kill her here and they would do it slowly and tortuously.

Something else happened, then; something she did not expect. There was another presence…one that was soft and gentle but which somehow exerted more force than the two magicians combined. It was a presence that shocked them all, and it caused the girl to look down towards her feet. Instead of a cracked, leaking egg there was in its place a rather small dragon. Without knowing how she knew that it was a male, and she watched as he pressed himself through the remainder of the shell of his confines, snout and claws working to make it happen. His silver body was coated in what could only be the fluids from the inside of the egg.

The room was completely silent as they watched, the cracking of the egg and the sloshing of fluids the only sound as all eyes were fixed on the creature. Once out of his confines the dragon shook himself off, momentarily flaring his moist, silver wings before releasing a small trumpet of victory; an obvious attempt at a roar. Dark eyes blinked up at her curiously, and without thinking about it she reached a hand towards the small reptile. Flesh and scales touched, then, and after a bright light and the feeling of ice-cold water flowed through her veins and concentrated in the hand that was touching the dragon. When it stopped she snapped her hand away as if she had been burned, and looked to see a strange, glowing mark there. Emerald eyes went wide; she had no idea what was happening.

"The gedwey ignasia," came a deep voice from behind her.

Ilia turned, gripping her wrist with her other hand, eyes wide and face still filled with shock. The look on the other man's face, a magician, was taught and unimpressed, even if he could not deny what had transpired before him.

"It would seem that we have found our latest dragon rider," he continued, though he didn't seem at all pleased.

_Dragon Rider_…the words reverberated in her mind, which was no longer her own. There was something else there; another presence. _No…no this was _not _happening…_

Because the worst thing that could happen to a person who didn't want anything to do with the Empire was to become one who is forced to protect it.

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><p>Calmer of the Storm: So there you have it…the prologue. Not very exciting, I realise, but I promise that the usual canon of characters will make an appearance soon, starting in the next chapter. Well, within reason; it's been a while since the end of the series xD<p>

Let me know what you think; not sure if I should keep going or not. As this is my first 'Eragon' story, I'm just testing the waters, so if people don't like it I'll scrap it.


	2. Chapter I: Meeting

Calmer of the Storm: Well, I guess a few of you are reading it…may as well keep going for a bit ^^; I'm not really one to beg for reviews, but…is this even a good idea? Haha. Oh well…here goes nothing!

Disclaimer: I own nothing save for the character that I've created, whose name I may-or-may-not change.

_Chapter I: Meeting_

_One Year Later_

Ilia was standing at the base of the Menoa Tree in the Elven capital, Ellesmera. She was not alone, for with her there were five others; a female dwarf, an urgal (Ilia was pretty sure that one was female as well, but she couldn't be positive), a man and two elves, one of each gender, as well as their respective dragons. This small but important group comprised the next generation of dragon riders, apparently, to be shipped off and given 'proper' training.

Really, the young woman didn't want anything to do with this. Her refusal to join in any of this sort of thing had been adamant, though there was nothing in this world that could tear her away from Luan. In spite of everything he was her saving grace; she would do anything for him. The silver dragon had grown into a splendid specimen, in her own humble opinion. His wingspan was vast and seemed to grow every day; his body long and thick and his tail broad and strong. The talons on each clawed foot were razor-sharp and shone the colour of pearls, as did his teeth, and the colour of his scales glinted a brilliant silver in the sun. It was in the moonlight, however, that he held his true beauty; when flying in the air he seemed but a spectre; a figment of imagination or perhaps a trick of the light. His scales bended and shaped the moonbeams, casting a light of their own, and his eyes had settled to a deep shade of cobalt blue. The skin stretched between the bones in his wings was a darker colour, more grey than silver, but still not lacking in metallic quality despite that. Luan was not the biggest of dragons but he would grow; after a year's worth of expanding he carried with him the telltale bulk of a typical male, and it would only increase with time.

Without him, Ilia wasn't sure what would have become of her. Had he not decided to hatch for her that night she was certain that she would have ended up at least in prison, perhaps to rot forever. She was a member of society that could easily be forgotten, and she suspected that that had been the initial response. The daughter of a slain noble turned street-rat…she was nothing but a blemish on the majestic city of Ilirea. If one were to ask her what she was perceived as amongst the riders she would say that she was only a blemish here, and that it was not her sour attitude towards the whole system but her birthing and circumstance that had done it.

This attitude of hers had not earned her many friends during the year-long journey. She was distant and cold, quick to defend herself and quick to lash out and lay blame on others. According to her the misery that she felt was solely at the hand of others; how could she bring such things on herself? It wasn't as if she _wanted_ to suffer. She hadn't wanted to lose her family and her home, and also the man that she loved. No; none of it had been her idea. This whole Dragon Rider thing hadn't either, but Luan was perhaps the only creature in this world that she didn't blame for anything. She knew his heart and mind as he knew hers; she knew that there was no deceit in it. He had her best interest at heart, and she loved him dearly for it.

The only thing that they did often disagree upon was the matter of protecting the lands. They were to have no affiliation with any one race (which was completely fine with Ilia) however they were also to remain at the beck and call of the rulers. It was on this point that Luan was apprehensive; not of the point itself but of his rider's reaction to it. Her view was jaded and her opinions formed on her past experiences.

"Luan, I'm not protecting a land with a broken system," she'd told him, once.

The dragon had responded with a gentle _'Perhaps you should change it, then.'_

That had not gone over all that well, for she'd bristled and almost lashed out at him. "You weren't there, Luan! You didn't watch as the guilty were acquitted and you were not the one painted a fool. Your father's name was not slandered and your lands were not taken from you as a punishment for trying to do what was right!"

To that he had no rebuttal, but still felt as though her words were borne more of anger and her opinions formed on the bias of her pain. Did he blame her? Of course not. He would follow her anywhere, no matter what she decided to choose, for he knew that she would never turn him against his own kin. He knew the dark corners of her mind; he knew what lay hidden there, and it did not frighten him any.

The gathering had been made because they were making their final preparations for the departure to Arkenea; the lands beyond Alagaesia. They were to leave tomorrow, but there were things that needed to be covered now. It was boring and logistical stuff; what to do once they got there, what to say and how to act. Who they would be meeting and why, as well as what they were to accomplish there. Ilia knew what it was; training. Training so that they could become further dogs of the empire, and while she quite liked that they were leaving this forsaken place she didn't relish the thought of having to come back. A Rider's training was not quick, however it was expected that they would, one day, return.

"Your teacher will be Eragon and his partner Saphira," came the regal voice. It was this that piqued the young woman's interest and she turned to look at the woman who had spoken. She was the Queen of the Elves; the Queen Arya. Behind her rested a dragon whose scales seemed to be made of emerald. He was massive; at least twice the size of Luan and much thicker. His large eye was half-lidded and he seemed to be apathetic about this meeting himself, but all would know that he was watching closely.

"Eragon, as you know, is the oldest Rider of the new Order and is wise and powerful," there was a slight twitch of the Queen's lips as she said that, as if the thought amused her, "and his partner, Saphira, is the oldest living female dragon and certainly not to be trifled with."

There was a feeling that came from Luan that was rather interesting in that Ilia couldn't place it. Whatever it was he hid it from her and made no mention of it but she wasn't daft; whatever was getting to him it had to do with this dragon, even if it was nothing more than a curiosity to meet the oldest female of his race.

"Your training will be difficult, and its length will be decided by your proficiency in the various tasks set before you. You will return to Alagaesia when required, to act as guardians of the peace. You are the subjects of no nation, however you will be under the direction of Eragon and Saphira. It is not an invitation to act autonomously, for your oath as a Dragon Rider is binding and sacred, and will be treated as such." There was a severity in her tone that told all who listened that, if this trust were to be broken, the consequences would be dire.

A smile touched the Queen's lips and she looked over them all, though Ilia could not help but notice that it was a rather stately smile, and therefore one that lacked any sense of genuine feeling. She smiled because she had to; not because she felt anything genuine for these recruits. Really Ilia didn't blame her; it wasn't as if the Queen knew any of them.

"Tonight, however, you will dine with us. A feast is to be held in your honour, as is tradition for all departing riders. Atra esterni ono thelduin, Shur'tugal, un se onr sverdar sitja hvass." With that the Queen withdrew herself, climbing onto the back of her massive dragon before taking off.

She watched with slight awe as the Queen flew off, though Ilia knew it would not be the last time they saw her. The Riders were each to have a private audience with the pair before the night was through, and she hadn't decided if that as a good thing or not. Ilia's reluctance to take up her mantle was not a secret to anyone, let alone the Queen herself. What would she think of her?

'_May good fortune rule over you, Riders, and may your swords stay sharp.'_

The girl was snapped out of her state by the sound of her dragon's honey-smooth voice penetrating her thoughts. _'What?'_

A rumble escaped his mass that sounded suspiciously like laughter, which draw a few pairs of eyes. _'Those were the Queen's parting words. I thought that you would like to know.'_

The girl's face reddened, though she thanked her partner. It was also no secret that her grasp on the ancient language was not all that great, though that was mostly due to her unwillingness to take it seriously than anything else.

Later that evening, the feast had commenced. The weather was fine and it was held outdoors as to accommodate the dragons; not even elf halls were accustomed to such beasts. It was true that the elves had revered them longest, but much had happened since the first alliance. Both Ilia and Luan were full and satisfied, though it was clear that her partner was having a much better time that she was. He was cavorting with a brown dragon; Elen, she thought. It was the urgal's partner, a female of no mean size despite her age and gender. All the while she knew that he was paying attention to her, though she assured him time and again that she was quite alright on her own.

Except that she wasn't. Truth be told, this whole thing was rather intimidating. Oddly enough she'd found comfort with the urgal, whose kind she had not really ever been fond of. While they hadn't killed her family they had started the events of their downfall…but even she was smart enough to know that she couldn't begrudge the whole race. Narqa was surprisingly intelligent and even eloquent, and out of all of them (other than the elves) she had grasped onto the ancient language the best.

The two were engaged in idle conversation when an elf interrupted them.

"Forgive me, Shur'tugal, but the Queen Arya requires the presence of Lady Ilia," he stated smoothly.

Ilia almost snorted; it had been a long time since she'd been called 'Lady'. Nonetheless she followed, bidding goodbye to her newfound friend for the moment. Luan was also summoned, and the silver dragon quickly made his way over to where his rider was going.

The pair was led into a clearing, though the place had been set up more like a building than anything. The trees lined the pathway and at the end they parted, opening up to a curiously circular area. The trees that lined this were especially tall and thick and were almost silver in colour, their branches extended upwards and covering the space in a cathedral-like manner. Even still the moonlight filtered down through the trees, and there was a fire pit (Ilia thought that too crude of a word; 'hearth' might be better) in the centre that cast dancing shadows upon everything around it. In its light basked the massive green dragon and his rider, the Queen, who sat comfortably in front of him on a large cushion.

"Atra esterni ono thelduin, Ilia," greeted the Queen.

Ilia stood there a moment staring blankly, and was spurred otherwise only by the mental urging of her partner. She recognised them as the words from before; a greeting and blessing in the ancient language.

Bowing slightly, she returned, "Atra du evarinya ono varda, Arya Dro…Drottning." The girl flushed, having almost forgotten the last word.

A light smile touched the Queen's lips, "You'll have to work on your pronunciation, for that is quite important when casting spells. Nonetheless, I'm glad that you have come." There was no reproach in the Queen's tone, and this was the first time that Ilia felt any sort of remorse for not taking things more seriously.

"Come, sit down," Arya instructed lightly, motioning to another cushion with an elegant hand.

Ilia sat down, Luan moving in behind her. It was at this point that the green dragon finally stirred, shifting his great head so that he was looking at the two of them. In her eyes Luan always seemed so big, but this dragon dwarfed him significantly.

'_Greetings, Ilia and Luan,'_ came the dragon's deep and melodic voice. It was what she had been expecting; the depth of his voice seemed to match his age and size.

'_Greetings, Firnen-elda and Arya Drottning. It is an honour to be in your presence.'_ Luan was speaking for them all to hear, and Ilia was rather impressed with his manners; he certainly hadn't gotten them from her.

"We're meeting with the Riders and dragons individually to see how you are faring…I know that it is a lot to ask of you. While it is a great honour to be chosen as a Rider, to leave everything you've ever known behind is not easy. Riders do occasionally return to ensure that there is peace throughout the land, however most choose to remain in Arkenea to build their lives there. The Riders will, of course, be called on in times of need." There was genuine concern in the Queen's voice, and Ilia wondered why she hadn't decided to go. She was a Rider too, obviously, and she wondered which duty had come to her first.

However, she couldn't help but scoff. "I have no home here…in all honesty, your majesty, I am quite glad to be rid or Alagaesia. It's never done me any good."

A light frown touched the Queen's lips; it was obviously not the answer she had been expecting. Arya knew some of the girl's past, but only because they had done extensive research on each of the upcoming riders; those that would be the last for quite some time…until Eragon called for more. Her attitudes and sentiments, however, had not been assessed.

"How do you mean?"

Ilia bristled; this wasn't what she wanted to talk about. "Nothing…it's just that the Riders never did anything to save my family. King Aurian did nothing to punish the barbarians who ravaged my home, despite the evidence. So why would I be sad to leave such a broken system? No…not sad at all. Have they not told you that I am the 'accidental' Rider? That I was chosen because I broke the rules?"

Arya sensed the defences in the girl's mind going up, and she was rather surprised at how strong they were considering. As far as she knew, this girl had no magical ability…but perhaps they were wrong. "Forgive me, Ilia, I did not know. But understand that there are no accidents when it comes to the Riders. Luan chose _you, _not anyone else, and he would have remained in his egg until he found you. From now on you will only answer to Eragon and Saphira, and even then only because they are much more powerful than you are."

Ilia didn't like the thought of answering to anyone, so to go to a place where there was no real ruling power, where she would have almost absolute autonomy…it was far too good to pass up. And what would the loss of one Rider do to Alagaesia if they were to be under attack? As far as she knew in Arkenea there were dozens, and if Eragon and Saphira were so strong, then there was no need for her to come at the beck and call of the land that had treated her horribly. No, once she left, she wasn't coming back.

There was a strange sort of feeling that came from Luan again, that same one from before when it came to the mention of the female dragon. Firnen seemed to pick up on it, for the green dragon lifted his head. The tenor of his thoughts were slightly amused; he was obviously intrigued by the younger dragon's mind.

'_You anticipate your meeting with Saphira,'_ he said, scaly lips upturned into some sort of smile. In the tone of his voice though there was something else; almost a sadness or perhaps a longing…did he know the dragon?

Luan looked slightly embarrassed; the dragon blinked and shrunk back just a little, as if he had been called out for something shameful. _'She is…my mother,'_ he answered sheepishly.

A general sense of surprise swept over the group, and Firnen seemed to eye Luan with a greater sense of scrutiny than before. Why that would be, Ilia didn't know.

It was the Queen who broke the silence. She had reached back and had curled a hand around one of her partner's claws; she looked to be comforting him. "You come from a strong parentage, Luan," said Arya softly. There was a smile on her face that spoke of something else, but neither the rider nor the dragon questioned it.

Their meeting ended there, then, each parting with their own thoughts of the other. Tomorrow morning the ship would leave, and Ilia would never have to set foot on this godforsaken land again.

Calmer of the Storm: Alright! So there you have it. You know the drill…review!


	3. Chapter II: Arrival

_Chapter II: Arrival_

The morning dawned as it always did; this one calm as the sun's brilliant rays bathed the waiting land in light and warmth. Those in the land of Alagaesia were beginning to rise and begin an honest day's work, but things in Ellesmera were already abuzz with excitement. The ship to take them across had been readied; it was a fair size, however it would not fit five dragons. Three was the maximum, and even then it would be a tight squeeze, so two of them would have to fly. The journey was too long for the young dragons to fly the whole way, which was why they were taking the ship. The only way back from Arkenea was to fly, which in itself was an indication that the dragons were ready for tasks other than training.

A gentle breeze stirred the leaves around them, rusting the Queen Arya's dark brown hair. Beside her stood Firnen, and the two of them gazed silently for a moment out over the vast expanse of water below them. The Queen had a hand resting on the green dragon's great leg, and though the action was small and insignificant she stroked a scale with her thumb.

"I take it that he's not one of yours," she said gently. Overnight Firnen's thoughts were clouded; she knew he needed privacy.

A soft rumble escaped the dragon's throat, and for the first time since coming to rest there he shifted. _'No, he is not.'_

It had been a long time, over a hundred years, since he had seen Saphira. Their brief time together had resulted in the beginning of the next line of dragons, and as time wore on and more eggs were laid and sent over, it was only inevitable that Saphira would become attached to another. Dragons were not monogamous creatures, however it was widely accepted that while a mated pair was alive and together that no one else would get in the way. Dragons did not love in the same way as humans did, but this feeling of disappointment that coursed through him was hard to ignore. Luan was the first of Saphira's in half a century, the first batch of dragons sired by another.

There was another lapse of silence before Arya spoke once more. "I have an odd feeling about those two. I don't quite know what it means, but they are unlike any other pair in quite some time. I feel…apprehensive about them going." The Queen was voicing these things for the first time. It was merely an inkling; a small voice of doubt that said if those two went over something was going to change. The scale of this change was something that she had no idea about, and this feeling certainly wasn't enough to prohibit them from going.

'_It isn't something we can stop,'_ Firnen was stating the obvious.

"I suppose we'll just have to wait and see what happens," she finished absently. It was time to move; from their vantage point she could see the riders gathering at the small port, dragons both on the ground and circling overhead. With complete synchronisation this particular rider stepped forward as her dragon slid off the ledge, and seamlessly she stepped onto his back and they were in the air.

From below, the five riders watched as the Queen and her dragon drifted down towards them. It was a magnificent sight; the sun glinted majestically off the green scales, throwing rainbows of colour in all directions. For a few short moments Firnen's great form blotted out the sun completely, until that final flare of his wings that had him settling on the ground. There was silence among the group; even the elves seemed nervous about this journey they were about to undertake. The passage had been known for being treacherous, turning the journey itself into a test. As of yet no riders had been lost, but a few had come close. At the very least, they came out of it as stronger people. Needless to say, Ilia hadn't got much sleep the night before.

"Greetings, Riders. I trust that you slept well?" The glint in her eyes told them that she understood this was not the case. The lack of response from her audience told her to continue on. "There is now nothing left for me to say, you are all aware of the journey that lies ahead of you. As is custom, I will fly with you until the boundaries of our nation, and then you are on your own. Atra esterni ono thelduin, Shur'tugal, un se onr sverdar sitja hvass," she repeated her farewell from the night before, though it was almost lost as Firnen gave a farewell of his own. Lifting his head the dragon sent a hot flame into the air, finishing it off with a roar that rumbled the very ground they stood on.

Ilia didn't bother getting on the ship; she had volunteered Luan to be one of the first to take flight. Narqa and her dragon Elen would take to the air with them, and Ilia found herself glad. Despite everything the urgal was the one she'd bonded with the most; which meant that she'd actually had a conversation with them. The elves were rather intimidating, the dwarf seemed content to keep to herself, and the man she just found difficult to be around. His name was Sorren, she had gathered, and his dragon was a black thing called Arin. Both were a little cocky for her taste, though it seemed that being among the elves put them in their place. Arin was the youngest of the dragons, having only been hatched a few months ago, and his youth was evident. Sorren himself was the same age as Ilia, though he lacked a certain maturity that he'd undoubtedly gain over a very short amount of time.

True to her words, Queen Arya and Firnen rode with the others until an invisible landmark. The excitement in the air was tangible; even Firnen seemed thrilled with the opportunity to spread his wings like this with those of his own kin. The two males jostled each other a little in the air; Firnen had size and speed on his side, but Luan seemed more adept at acrobatics than his elder. The silver dragon's agility in the air seemed a bit of a surprise, as was picked up by the general tenor of the thoughts emanating from all parties moving through the sky. Ilia felt that he was showing off a little and it was all she could do to sit there and hang on, though there was a reason he was so good at it. As it stood, he seemed to have caught the brown female's attention, and Ilia couldn't help but think that had been his intention the whole time.

When it came time for the Queen and her partner to remain behind there was an impression on all of their minds; no words, but the combined consciousness of them both to leave the new riders with a final farewell. There was a final roar from Firnen, the sound of it resounding across the open sea; any creature for miles would be able to hear it, and would no doubt cower. And so it was, that the five riders and their dragon partners truly began the first leg of their journey.

Travel was difficult. Things had started off rather nicely, with the sun bearing down on them and the wind pushing them forward. It was not until the middle of the second day that things began to change for the worse.

During the night and through the morning clouds had rolled in, and though there was a storm in the distance the winds had remained favourable. However at midday there was a sudden change in both wind speed and direction, ensuring that this storm would now cross their path directly. Ilia was not of sea-faring folk, and while the ship was in fact enchanted surely a storm would surely force them to help out. Not that Ilia was against helping; she was quite willing, if it meant she wasn't going to die, it was just that her lack of knowledge didn't help. The sea was unforgiving and any mistake on her part could be costly. She did learn quickly though, if only out of necessity. Thankfully the crew of the ship was skilled and knowledgeable, and they seemed to know these waters well.

By the end of the fourth day, Ilia was certain that none of them were going to survive this. If they didn't perish in the storm or die of starvation, they were all going to kill each other. The elves were haughty and didn't bother to associate with the rest of them unless necessary, though circumstance had forced them all together which they had not been overly impressed with. Sorren was doing his best to get on everyone's nerves, and only that morning Narqa and Althea, the dwarf, had actually come to blows. Even with Althea's stunted height the two females were bigger than everyone else, and stronger than anyone who would have cared to step in. Strangely enough it had been Arin to break them up; the young dragon was nursing a few wounds and had gotten fed up with the two of them bickering and fighting where he was trying to rest. Even the dragons themselves were getting to each other; it was rather clear that Luan had decided he fancied Elen, and with four males who had never seen another dragon before, let alone a female, this had not gone over all that well. He was standing his ground though, considering that they all still had to take shifts being in the air which both subdued and inciting the fighting between them. The blasted female seemed to be enjoying this, and had largely pretended she was oblivious to it all. The only thing Luan really had going for him was the fact that she really did seem to take notice of him more, though it could perhaps be due to the fact that this often riled the others up. The obvious tension between the riders and dragons seemed to have an effect on the overall morale of the crew; everyone was grumpy now.

It was almost a shock, then, when the storm let up. The constant motion of the ship had been going on for so long that those in it barely noticed, so when it stopped it roused everyone from their sleep. Ilia rose to find that morning had dawned, and while the sky was still overcast it brought with it the promise of a better day.

"Land! There's land over there!"

At the cry the rest of them hustled out to the deck, coming to find that Sorren was indeed right. The young man was practically hanging from the crow's nest; he hadn't been able to really get up there until the storm had let up.

With renewed energy they started moving, forsaking the ship completely and each climbing onto the backs of their respective dragons.

The group of five raced towards the land, palpable excitement swirling with the beat of every wing. Still it was a competition, with each dragon straining for the lead. To be the first to touch ground would give no one special honour, save for the satisfaction that they had done it.

Once they got closer it seemed that they had a welcoming party. There stood a row of massive dragons, obviously among the first ever born in the new age. They shone various colours; the sun had since come out and now glinted off their scales. This was not the entire population of the island; only a select seven.

It was the dragon in the middle, however, that commanded the most attention. Larger than the rest, it was obviously the oldest. The lines of its muscle and the lithe build strong indicated a female, and her brilliant blue scales may as well have been gemstones themselves. She was resting, but it was clear that she was of great importance, and knew it, simply by the way that she carried herself.

''That _is my mother,' _came Luan's thoughts, and for a moment Ilia was surprised. Oh. So this was the great Saphira. That meant that the man sitting astride this great dragon was none other than their master and teacher, Eragon himself.

The five dragons pressed for the final burst of speed, obviously holding no reverence for the fact that they were all about to meet this legend they heard about in story and song. Ilia spared a glance towards the elves; she could practically see the conflict on their faces. No doubt they would have been brought up to revere this figure; to meet him would be an honour. Really, Ilia didn't care; perhaps if she annoyed him enough he would send her away. A dragon and rider with no training would have no option to fight for the Empire.

It was because of this lack of propriety that Luan barreled down towards the ground first. The others had pulled back at the last second, allowing for softer and more graceful landings. Even Arin managed to get his feet under him in time, though it was clear that the young dragon had wanted to win this race at any costs. Having suffered the most wounds during the trip, inflicted by his brethren, he was out to prove something.

'_Now there is an entrance we have not seen before.'_ It was an unconventional greeting, to be sure, but Ilia supposed that this was an unconventional arrival. However the sapphire dragon did not look offended; in fact she looked rather amused. As Luan picked himself up off the ground there was no shame in his countenance; in fact he almost seemed proud of himself. Ilia was proud of him too; he'd picked up a thing or two from her.

Neither Luan nor Ilia said anything, however, and with a quiet rumble the silver dragon took his place beside the others, managing to isolate Elen in the process of doing so.

It was at this point that the rider on the blue dragon dismounted. The others in his company did the same, and so the new arrivals thought it prudent to follow suit. While Ilia would have preferred to remain where she was, a gentle prodding from Luan had her sliding from the saddle and on the ground with the others.

"Eka aí fricai un Shur'tugal," Eragon spoke then, and the other riders and dragons with him nodded in agreement. "Atra esterní ono thelduin"

'_I am a Rider and a friend, and may good fortune rule over you'_, Luan translated; he knew his rider's skill with the ancient language was horrible at best.

'_Well that's a bit obvious,' _Ilia thought back; Eragon was obviously a rider, and if he wasn't a friend than they were all in trouble.

Luan quite obviously had to hold back his laughter, _'Formalities, Dove. You know how the Ancient Language works.'_ Well, she didn't, but she would have to.

Ilia rolled her eyes at the pet name; he thought it quite funny because she was nothing like a dove at all.

Despite the quick exchange her eyes were fixed on the figure in front of them. For all the stories and legends about him, Ilia was expecting something…well, much different than this. He looked much younger than she'd imagined; he didn't even have facial hair. His build was nothing impressive, and though it was clear that he was an excellent fighter his bulk was nothing to think twice about. He wasn't overly tall either; average, really, though he did at least seem to be at an appropriate weight. What caught her off guard the most was how incredibly handsome this man was. There was an ethereal quality to him, like the elves, but his was more of an earthly kind. He had the same grace and general distinction of an elf, his ears even came to a point, however there was also something distinctly human about his features. The hard lines of his jaw and the weathered look in his eyes, despite his youthful appearance, told her that this man was at least partly human, even if he looked much too young to be well over a hundred years old.

"Come, I'm sure you're all very tired. We've got proper meals and beds prepared for all of you." He'd gotten straight to the point, though this wasn't the first batch of new riders he'd dealt with. He knew that they would all be tired for the journey was long and difficult, and they likely needed some time and space from one another. Well, they would be able to get all of their frustrations out on the training fields within the next few days; there would be little rest for them until he had properly assessed where these young riders were.

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><p>Calmer of the Storm: I know it's been a while; things have gotten rather busy. Hint: Reviews make me update faster! Haha.<p> 


	4. Chapter IV: Training

_Chapter III: Training_

It was hell, pure and simple.

The day had started out alright; morning had dawned beautifully and the lack of motion around them had been incredibly comforting. The fact that both Ilia and Luan were afforded a decent night's sleep was incredible, not to mention the fact that they had also gone to bed with bellies full of rich and delicious food for the first time since leaving Ellesmera. The beds were warm and comfortable, quite unlike anything she'd slept in in a long while, and the girl was looking forward to spending the better part of the day in it.

These particular fantasies, however, would not come to pass. Whatever time it was it certainly wasn't midday, for the sun wasn't nearly high enough in the sky. A woman had entered her room, dressed in full armour and even armed with a sword, and she'd made no qualms about the fact that Ilia was to be up in the same manner in the matter of a half hour. At first Ilia was inclined to ignore the woman, but upon being brutally torn from her bed she had no choice. Ilia had decided to hate this woman, whose name she hadn't even gotten. Well, perhaps 'brutally torn' was a bit of an overstatement; the woman had pulled her blankets off and had proceeded to assault her mind with suggestions of getting up 'or else'. No, this was not how she'd imagined this paradise for riders to be.

They were thrown into the thick of things right away. Never had her mind and body suffered so much; she hurt in places that she didn't even know existed. Her arms were tired to the point where she could barely lift the too-heavy sword that had been given to her. Her legs were sore from holding her up and being forced to move, and her body ached all over from the armour that was too tight in some places and too loose in others. It was hot and stuffy, and they'd been offered no water. In effect, this made for some very miserable riders.

Even the dragons had been put through the paces. Each rider and dragon pair was pitted against another, though they would not fight as a team. It was dragon versus dragon and rider versus rider. It did not take long for Ilia to recognise that these others were not using their full strength, but instead finding and prodding at the holes and chinks in their defenses. Ilia was fast and was good with a dagger, but with all this armour and the sword she was slow. She was a half-decent shot with a bow and arrow as well, but none of these conditions had been conducive to any kind of fighting like that. The woman she was fighting was the one from earlier, so at least that made it easier to find the will to fight back. It was the assault on her mind that did her in; it made her so angry that the girl all but exploded. The slight look of surprise on the woman's face did cause Ilia to become a little smug, however she was quickly subdued. It seemed that their session was over, however, for Ilia was on the ground and the other woman had an arm out to help her up.

"You're doing well, don't be so hard on yourself. I am Ailara, and my partner is Brin. He is impressed with your Luan." Despite the beating she'd handed out, this woman spoke kindly and even affectionately. Still, Ilia was one to hold a grudge and she tried to stand on her own. When she could not she gritted her teeth and took the other's hand, but made a show of not liking it.

Ailara simply chuckled lightly. "You are to report to the central training grounds; Eragon is awaiting you there. Savour your journey over, for your real training is about to begin."

There was something in the woman's eyes that she didn't like; a sort of glint of knowing that said she was in for it. She was obviously amused by her oncoming plights and Ilia did not take kindly to that. Without a word she turned away from the woman, limping slightly over to where Luan was waiting for her. He had to help her onto his back but eventually she made it, and then they began the short flight to where the others would be waiting.

They were among the last to arrive, though it seemed that no one was going to be upset about that. Five dragons stood in a line, riders out in front. All of them looked weary; even the elves didn't look overly impressed with having been put through the wringer so early on in the day. It was only Sorren and his young dragon that seemed in any sort of amiable mood; the excitement was just emanating from them. Ilia rolled her eyes; it was annoying simply because she was envious.

What was even more annoying, however, was the look on Eragon's face. He stood in front of them all, strong and fit as ever. _He_ had not just been stretched and pressed in every possible direction, and he had the audacity to look on them all with such arrogance. The dragon behind him appeared to be sleeping, but there was an unmistakable upturning of her scaly lips that had Ilia very suspicious.

"Now that you have had your proper welcoming, we can begin!" Eragon spoke, keeping his voice loud enough for all of them to hear.

Ilia groaned, sticking the point of her sword into the ground and making a show about leaning on it. She might be the only one outwardly showing her protest, but she knew the others were thinking the same thing she was.

Eragon seemed to be amused by this; even Saphira cracked an eye open to watch. "Well, it's a good thing you won't need your swords, then. Saphira and I will be assessing your strength of mind, both alone and with the combined strength of your partners. The defense of the mind, especially as a rider, is a far more important skill than the offense. We hold the secrets of the land and beyond; if anyone were to get a hold of that we would not fare well against an attack. It is for this reason that your mind must be an impenetrable fortress. Once defenses are suitable, then we will move on to how to attack. To start with, you will fend us off on your own. When it appears to be too much then your dragons may step in, and we will see how long you last. Now, imagine a wall surrounding your thoughts, and you must keep me from breaking it down. Begin!"

Everything had grown quiet, and despite not wanting to do this, Ilia found herself with renewed reason to fight back. She had something to prove…._no one_ delved into her mind. Her thoughts and memories were the only things she had left of her home; they were hers and hers alone. Was nothing sacred to these people? Immediately her walls went up, and she focused her gaze on Eragon. The bastard looked rather serene and handsome, standing there as if he had not a care in the world. Being the strongest man alive, she imagined he didn't. Her walls grew thicker; she was determined.

They waited for what seemed an eternity, but suddenly there was another presence. Each of them felt it at the same time, for Eragon was attacking them all at once. At first it was merely a light brushing as if he were reaching out to see that there was in fact something there. A few times this happened, and the final time there was a second consciousness, obviously Saphira. When this backed off, the real assault began.

Ilia didn't know what it was like for the others, but she absolutely hated it. She hated the feeling of someone trying to invade the most intimate part of her being; he was trying to look into her very soul, and she wanted him gone. She stood her ground, and increasingly the presence grew. She held fast, her defenses only growing as his attack became more ferocious. It was a constant exchange, and after a while Ilia didn't notice that the corners of Eragon's mouth had turned downwards slightly in concentration, nor that everyone else was now fending him off with the combined efforts of their dragons.

Finally it was getting too much for her; her wall was beginning to crack. Panic began to flood her body; no. No he couldn't get in. He wasn't allowed there. It was at this point that she felt Luan's mind come behind hers, filling in the cracks and even daring to help her push back. It was one consciousness versus two, and while all the others had been let out of the exercise their battle raged on.

There was the addition of a fourth consciousness, and it was this that changed the course of this battle and won it. It came with such force that it caused Ilia to physically stumble backwards; she'd never been assaulted like this before. At first the combined consciousness of Ilia and Luan managed to hold on, but the intensity only grew and her wall disintegrated as if it were made of sand. It left the both of them open and exposed; her very being was now open for examination. The second the invasion started, however, it instantly stopped. Eragon and Saphira withdrew from her mind, and as they did Luan did also. Ilia was left gasping for breath, sweat having formed on her brow. She didn't realise it, but the rest of her companions were all staring at her; she'd lasted much longer than they had.

"Well, I'd say that's enough for today. Go and get your rest, you will join the rest of us for dinner tonight." Without another word, Eragon climbed onto Saphira's back, and the pair flew off around the hill and out of sight.

Saphira took Eragon passed the hill and down over the plains that bordered the colony that they'd established long ago. Effectively it was a small city, though most of its inhabitants were transient. Some of the riders who were here more permanently had put roots down and even started families; children were still a rarity but not an overly uncommon sight. It was also not uncommon for the child of a rider to be chosen themselves, something which Eragon was a little wary about. If it became common practise he was aware that fear and general suspicion of the Riders among the greater population of Alagaesia could grow, but one could also not deny the riders the opportunity to have families of their own. He himself was the child of a rider, after all. Thankfully, it was still a bit early to have to deal with that problem.

'_Interesting pair, those two,'_ Saphira commented after a short while of flying.

'_I've never seen anyone come to us with such strong mental defenses before. From what the reports said, only the elves have had any kind of training and even that has been minimal,'_ Eragon responded. It was true; as far as he knew, only the elves had had any kind of training and previous affinity for magic at all. So when he'd pushed and found her mind to be at first impenetrable, it had surprised him. He was strong enough to be able to assault each of their minds at the same time; five was actually one of the smallest groups he'd dealt with. Of course, none of them had had this kind of training and none of them had faced one so powerful as he was, so it was quite the surprise when her defenses had not crumbled the instant he pressed, like most of the others had.

'_She's the one who stole the dragon egg, remember. To get through the wards of the castle would have been no easy feat. My son would have been waiting quite a long time, had she not decided to do it. She seems rather defiant in general, not just in mind.'_

They had been given histories of each of the Riders before they arrived, as per usual. It was never anything too in-depth, generally only including the part of their lives that included the dragons. IN comparison to the start of his own journey, they were rather boring. Eragon had grown up with strife, adventure and danger, having been forced to grow and mature as a man and a Rider much earlier than he would have hoped. It wasn't that he would change anything now; peace was prevalent across the land and dragons and Riders could live and move freely. Some had gone over and now led relatively normal lives, which was what he had intended all along. The Riders they were sending to him had been chosen systematically, through the passing of entire populations by the eggs. It seemed though that they were getting more and more selective about who they were allowing to touch the eggs, which had to change.

'_She can't have been born that way; those kinds of defenses don't come through birth, especially not humans. Something's happened to make her that way, and we need to find out what.'_

Saphira became amused; he could practically feel her smile from where he was sitting on her back. _'You have become perceptive in your old age, little one.'_

Eragon rolled his eyes, _'A mere hundred-and-twenty years is not old by a Rider's standards, nor by a dragon's.'_

'_A hundred-and-twenty-one.'_

Eragon didn't respond, allowing Saphira to enjoy her small victory.

'_And you wouldn't have been able to get through without my help. Her mind, I mean.'_ The dragon was still very much amused by this and wasn't going to let him get away with anything.

'_I didn't want to hurt her, she was defensive enough. You saw what was there on the other side.'_ He could have handled it, what he'd said was true. It would just have taken a lot more force than he had anticipated. Saphira had merely grown impatient and ended the exercise when she'd felt it had gone on long enough.

'_Bitterness, and beyond that, great pain. She has suffered much in her short life.'_

Eragon nodded; he didn't think anyone had ever come to them so broken before. It meant that she would be the hardest to train, even if her defenses were the highest. It was because her defenses were so high that they had a lot of work to do, for if she didn't have proper control she wouldn't be able to truly defend herself. It was impressive, yes, but she may very well have the hardest road ahead of her. Or maybe it was they who had their jobs cut out for them; one that didn't want to be trained would be very difficult to help indeed.

'_Come on, Little One. We should prepare for dinner tonight as it will be the first time our new recruits are introduced to the rest of the riders.'_

Eragon had no arguments; they did have to prepare.

While he was soaking in his bath and Saphira was busy preening herself, Eragon allowed himself to think. He thought of a lot of things, of things past and things future. He considered training exercises and how he was going to make sure that each of the riders got the specific training they needed. As per usual he would assign each a mentor, though the more he thought about it, the more it seemed like a good idea for him to take on Ilia himself. Usually he didn't like Saphira taking on her own children, but it wasn't a rule and this might prove to be an interesting exception. Saphira was never easy on her initiates, but since this one was her own flesh and blood he imagined that the training would be tougher than ever. Eragon himself hadn't taken on a trainee in a while now; occasionally he did, if he wanted the work or if he saw particular promise that he felt honing himself would be for the better, though generally the ability to oversee all of the training gave him better control over how things turned out.

Eragon sunk his head under the water, having made up his mind. Ilia would become his to train, then, and he had a feeling that this was going to be a challenge like nothing he'd ever had before.


	5. Chapter V: Banquet

_Chapter IV: Banquet_

Were it not for the fact that she was sore beyond belief, Ilia might have enjoyed the fact that she was having her first real banquet in a long time. The one at Ellesmera had been small so she hadn't counted it; this was going to be more like she was used to. Her father had been a good leader, and his people respected him. His subjects were few in comparison to the vast numbers in the greater parts of the Empire, but still it was of no mean size. When it came down to it, they could host over a hundred people in the Great Hall. As a child Ilia had adored those moments; the music and the laughter and the general feeling of mirth had done much for her. It was here that she was allowed certain liberties; extra sweets, staying up late, wandering around without telling her parents where she was at every moment. They had been her favourite nights.

Now though, it was gone. As her fingers carefully and expertly wove her hair into intricate braids she allowed her mind to wander. She hadn't grieved for her family in such a long time. Instead she'd wrapped her heart up in bitterness and hatred for all things imperial; it was easier that way. It was easier than facing the pain of her loss, especially now. It had been a few years, and to truly heal she knew that she would have to rip open the scars that had only crudely healed over. Sitting there in solitude as she was, she could feel the pain rising to the surface and threatening to break through. At first it was like the throbbing of blood behind a very painful bruise, but she knew it would break through in a torrent. Over the past year she'd had Luan to help her, and a part of her did recognise that without him she would not have lasted this long. It was his strength that sustained her now, for Ilia knew she wasn't strong. She was mature enough in herself and in her pain to know that she needed to change –she was turning into a bitter harpy and it would only get worse –but it wasn't enough for her to do anything about it.

'_It's time, Dove.'_ Luan's thoughts tore straight through her pain as they always did, pulling her from the brink of nothingness not for the first time. She was closer than she had been in quite a while and it caused her to come back with a sharp gasp, fingers dropping the last few strands of hair she had been working on. She didn't fault him for it though; the one person she couldn't stay angry at was Luan. On occasion she wondered if this was what it truly meant to love; to know someone so intimately and fully that things like true anger were not even in the question.

Her reflections were halted however as she knew it was time to go. _'I'm coming…give me a minute.'_ She knew that he knew what she had just been going through, and so their interaction was subdued and halted there, but she could still feel his presence. He was carrying her through it, leading her gently back to reality in a way that she could cope with. His kindness filled her with different emotion, and often it was enough to threaten a breakdown into tears.

Finally then, she was ready. Her golden hair was mostly down, falling around her shoulder in gentle waves. Some of it had been pulled back and woven into delicate plaits, revealing the stark, emerald colour of her eyes. The dress she'd chosen was simple yet elegant, though she hadn't worn anything this extravagant since her family's death. The colour matched her eyes, accented with silver to match Luan. It was fitted until her hips where it flared out, the gossamer skirt falling to the floor in a beautiful cascade of silver and green. The stitching was divine and intricate, the silver thread so fine that she wondered if it might be real and not merely dyed thread. Whoever had made this dress was gifted indeed…for the first time she truly matched her dragon as the two of them glinted magnificently in the moonlight.

When she finally met him she smiled softly, and the look in Luan's eyes and the gently up-curling of his lips told her that he was impressed. _'You look good…the best I've seen, I believe. You should wear a smile more often,'_ he said gently and rather seriously, then after a pause, _'the dress is nice too.'_

Ilia rolled her eyes, but she couldn't get mad. He was right…she felt much better than she had even if she couldn't explain why. Perhaps it was because they were finally out of the Empire, a place she'd so despised for so long now that she'd forgotten how to feel any other emotion. Without that ire though it left room for other things –things she didn't necessarily wish to deal with right now –but that was for later consideration. Right now she would enjoy this banquet, because apparently it didn't happen often. It was in honour of the new riders and for the purpose of introducing them to much of the wider population; otherwise life moved on as one might expect it to in any other town.

'_Come on, then, we should go. I've made us late enough,' _she returned softly. The fact that there was no rise from her at all was a bit of a surprise to them both, but Luan knew better than to push it. Carefully she climbed on his back, both to protect the dress and also because she was still quite sore.

Their flight was gentle, as to avoid ruining her carefully done hair, and when they landed only a few strands had fallen out of place. It wasn't enough for Ilia to care much about it, for the fine blonde hairs merely framed her face in a more delicate way now. From where they were she could hear the music and the murmur of voices, though it didn't seem as though things had gotten started just yet. The banquet was outdoors in order to accommodate the dragons, though they generally seemed to stick to the perimeter as their Riders milled around together. There was the odd dragon amongst the crowd, and Ilia thought there must be almost fifty people there in total, plus their dragons. Magic was literally in the air as the area was lit up by a series of floating lights, and all of the party decorations seemed to carry a distinct ethereal quality that could only have been set by a caster. The atmosphere was light and it put the girl at ease; maybe things wouldn't be so bad. For all the training she'd done earlier, it also looked like these Riders were not against having a bit of fun.

'_Over there,'_ Luan mentioned, motioning with his nose to where the other five new Riders were gathered. They seemed to be sticking to themselves, and it drew a smile from her lips to see that even the elves looked a little uncomfortable amongst the wider crowd. They'd been so haughty to begin with…now it seemed that they'd been knocked down a peg or two. Sorren was the one who looked most at ease, and she could see that he had broken away from the group slightly and seemed to be flirting with an older Rider. Ilia noted that the woman seemed only amused instead of impressed –he was young, though, and likely needed his ego deflated a few times before he would get the picture. With a gentle touch of Luan's nose Ilia left him, deciding that she may as well join the others.

Ilia moved effortlessly through the crowd, making a point of avoiding the gaze of anyone who looked at her and all but running away from anyone who looked like they might try and talk to her. When it came down to it, she was simply afraid. In her father's court she had been comfortable, but only because of the association that she carried. Everyone knew who she was, and they respected her. Not only that, but she was in a familiar place and one that she knew so well she could vanish if she felt the need to; here she was open and exposed, and she didn't like it. The fact that she'd even left Luan's side was quite a big step indeed.

When she did reach the group she felt much more at ease, even offering a small smile before her greeting. It seemed to stun the others, who for a moment were speechless. It was Narqa, dressed in her people's traditional garb, who broke the silence and returned the greeting.

"We're just not used to seeing you smile," she said when things seemed to relax, which caused Ilia to think to herself for a moment.

"Is it really that bad? I mean…am _I _really that bad?" she asked tentatively, though not sure that she wanted to hear the answer.

Slowly the urgal nodded, a grim smile on her lips. "We know it's tough…we all had to leave our homes and families behind. But whatever happened to you, it's not any of our faults, you know?"

Ilia felt bad…she realised she hadn't been treating anyone with even the slightest amount of respect. The urgal was right though, even if her assumptions on her behaviour were wrong. Ilia even found herself humbled enough not to correct the other, which was a first. Maybe…maybe she was being a little harsh about it. It wasn't like they'd chosen to be here either, and she hadn't even considered that maybe they had their own issues too. It wasn't enough for her to change her ways completely, but it was a start.

"I'm sorry. I…I didn't even think. My…issues just go so much deeper than what we're dealing with here, but you're right. I shouldn't be taking them out on everyone." She wasn't admitting that she was wrong on all accounts; the Empire still had a lot to atone for after all. But Narqa was right; that didn't mean she needed to hate everyone.

Her admission drew a smile from the other, who for the first time was completely convinced that Ilia really wasn't all that bad; just confused. Counting her transgressions as forgiven the urgal gave the human a pat on the back, not realising that her strength was so much that she practically knocked the wind out of the girl. "No harm done, just know that we can dish it back. Or at least I will." Because they were friends now, and that's what friends did.

While the new Riders were getting used to their new surroundings, Eragon was catching up with a few of the others. Up until the arrival of the new recruits he'd been preparing for it, which meant that he'd not had much time for personal matters. Though, it wasn't like he had much to deal with personally anyways. Eragon had distanced himself from the Riders, asserting himself as their leader and master, and nothing more. The moment that he and Saphira had taken off from the familiar soil of Alagaesia he had left everything behind. Family, friends, the very way of life that he'd known. Eragon had done much maturing over the years, and he'd come to understand just how lonely this position could be. Saphira was now his only true friend; oh, he trusted these Riders with his very life, and he knew that someday some of them were bound to surpass him in strength and valour, but for now he kept his distance. There were those that he was closer to, and he did have a council consisting of some of the very first Riders that surrounded him on a daily basis, but it wasn't the same.

Underneath it all, he missed his old life. Not the strife and the uncertainty, but he missed those he'd had around him. Roran and Katrina. Brom, King Orik, even Angela and Solembum. And Arya…he missed them all greatly. He wondered how they were faring; he got word now and then, but it was never enough. Many of those whom he missed had passed on, which was something he tried not to think about. From time to time Eragon wondered what he wouldn't give to just go back once more. To see the legacy that Roran had left behind. He would even settle for a visit from Murtagh, who had only made the journey once…that was fifty years ago. His brother had, as far as he knew, managed to escape binding himself to the Empire. Were it anyone else Eragon would have insisted, but he knew Murtagh never would. The Red Dragon and his Rider had become legend; from time to time the recruits brought stories they'd heard of this mysterious being that wandered the expanses of the land and those beyond it, never seeming certain whether he was real or not. It was one secret that Eragon would take to his grave; he would never implicate his brother. Surely the Empire would not appreciate a rogue Dragon Rider, especially not one so powerful as Murtagh.

In effect, he had also not pursued any kind of relationship that went beyond a simple friendship. As leader he felt that it would be a distraction, and wryly he would often think that he now understood Arya more than ever. She had distanced herself from him on purpose, likely knowing that this was how it was going to be. He had been young and foolish then, and looking back he was somewhat embarrassed at how adamant he had been. She was one-of-a-kind, though, and perhaps part of his issue was that no one had come close to affecting him in the way that she had. Truth be told, if he ever came across her again, Eragon wasn't sure how he would react since he wasn't convinced that he'd put her fully out of his mind. A hundred-odd years away from someone was a long time, but that long in relative solitude also gave one the time to think and dwell on the past and the could-have-beens.

The master himself was dressed in relatively casual clothing, though he certainly didn't lack any elegance. The silk shirt he wore was a deep blue in colour, draping loosely over his frame and tucked into a pair of black pants. The black boots he wore were polished, obviously recently so, and he seemed to take care not to soil them too early on in the evening.

When the area was sufficiently full, Eragon decided that it was time to greet the recruits before formally opening the banquet. He was getting hungry himself; he imagined that the others were as well, considering many here had spent all day out in the training fields. Excusing himself from his present company, he made his way over.

Needless to say, Eragon wasn't quite expecting the sight that he was greeted with. Overall it was to be expected; they were nervous and uncomfortable and he couldn't blame them, since they too had been pulled away from everything they knew and loved in order to come and train with him. Largely the others left them alone, though it was rather amusing to see that the young human male had took it upon himself to make a few new friends of his own, and it did not escape his notice that they were all of them female. The rest were dressed in formal clothing suitable for the occasion; some of it had been brought while others had been picked while being here.

What caused his step to falter a moment, however, was the sight of the human girl. Honestly, he hadn't even expected her to come. What he'd seen in her mind earlier that day was something so ugly he knew they both had a long road ahead of them, so the change now was drastic. She was conversing rather easily with the urgal woman, which did surprise him. It wasn't just that though; she was rather beautiful. No, that was too restrained…she was stunning. It went without saying that no human had ever affected him so, and if he were speaking honestly he'd say that he never expected one to. Her golden hair had been expertly done and it framed her face perfectly. The dress that she wore was a perfect complement to both her figure and her complexion, its silver highlights shifting effortlessly with each tiny movement she made. It was the look on her face that got him though. It was gentle, pleasant, and now and then she even gave what seemed to be a soft laugh.

Approaching them he did his best to cover it up; it was simply a fleeting thing and he couldn't dwell on it. What he couldn't deny, however, was the light feeling in his heart when he thought of how he was later on going to announce that she would be spending much exclusive time with him. It was a feeling that had to be quelled, of course, and as quickly as possible.

"I'm glad that you're all here. We are about to get started, if you would take your places. You'll be sitting with me, at the head table over there." He pointed, though it was rather obvious which table that was. To accommodate the numbers the long tables were arranged parallel to each other, with the exception of one at one end of the clearing that was perpendicular to the rest. At it were eleven seats, and it was rather clear where the five of them would be seated since those appointed to the council had taken up one side already.

"You are our guests of honour tonight, so enjoy yourselves. Once the formalities are over the true fun can begin." There was a smile on his lips; he seemed to be looking forward to this.

Against his better judgment, Eragon turned to Ilia. "Come, let's sit. Ilia, take the seat next to mine, if you will." He was announcing her as his trainee, after all, so it only made sense. At least, it was what he would tell himself and everyone else.

At this instruction the girl blinked; surely she was the one that he'd want farthest from her…unless he felt that she was going to cause the most trouble. "Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, hm?" she offered as she fell in step beside him, though since she'd already been put at ease it was hardly a defensive comment.

It went without saying that this caused a slight ripple through the small group of new recruits; why her specifically, none of them knew.

"You are hardly an enemy, though I do admit I'm a little worried about what you might say to some poor, unsuspecting Rider. Generally those who come here _want_ to be here, but that does not seem to be the case with you." He was speaking lightly, knowing that he was treading on delicate ground. The last thing that Eragon wanted to do was to send up those defenses that he knew firsthand were incredibly strong.

Instead, Ilia gave a small grin. "So I need babysitting. Well, I suppose I should take pride that you've decided to do this yourself instead of sending another to do it. It's either a compliment or an insult, and I haven't decided which."

They had reached the table, and he pulled out a chair while raising an eyebrow at her, "Please clarify."

She sat. "An insult because you don't trust me, and a compliment because it must mean that you believe me too capable of wrongdoing for anyone else to handle, which mean that I must in fact have some degree of strength."

This girl was far more perceptive than he'd first given her credit, and it caused a grin to slide across his own lips. "It isn't that I don't trust you…think of it more like you haven't given me any reason to believe you won't try to sabotage our lovely little gathering here."

"Meaning I've given you reason that I would, because I don't believe anyone else has given you reason to think anything at all about them."

The grin on his face only grew, but he wasn't looking at her anymore. "Well, I suppose it's time to get things started.

Ilia huffed, but found that the defenses she knew all too well were not flaring up. In fact she almost got a light feeling from the banter, and honestly she didn't mind being babysat. Not by him. He may represent everything she absolutely hated, but even Ilia could recognise a handsome man when she saw one. Since she had decided to put everything aside for this night, she could see him as only that…which meant that getting attention from him wasn't going to be a terrible thing at all.

Standing, Eragon rested his hands on the table and leaned into them. "Greetings!" he called out, simultaneously reaching out with his consciousness to ensure everyone's attention. When he had it he smiled, sweeping his gaze across the Riders. It wasn't often that everyone was gathered, and so he sought to savour the moment.

"I would like to welcome you all here as we feast in honour of our new Riders," he paused, as there was a cheer that rose up from the crowd in front of him. Eragon had to smile; they were obviously in good spirits already, and he suspected that some of it was brought about by drink more than anything else.

"We welcome five into our midst, and you will all be charged with aiding their transition into the Rider's way of life. They are our brothers and sisters in arms and it is ours to make sure that they grow despite the challenges that will come their way." His speech was formal, and generally quite similar to all the others he'd given.

Turning to the Riders beside him then, he began to introduce each one of them. The dragons had positioned themselves around the gathering and were, for the moment, sitting quietly. As each was introduced he named their respective dragon as well as the one who would be in charge of their individual training; each of these Riders had trained others before and were well respected in their respective disciplines. The decision had not been made lightly; Eragon had looked at each of their strengths and weaknesses and matched them with a trainer that would best suit them. As he came to the final Rider, the one sitting to his right, he knew he had the attentions of everyone on him. It would not have been lost on the crowd that he had requested specifically that she sit by him; normally he would have one of his advisors on either side of him.

"And finally, I present Ilia and Luan. They come to us from the far eastern reaches of Alagaesia near the city of Hedarth. As for their training, Saphira and I will be personally overseeing it." The surprise extended from the girl beside him and rippled through the crowd; it had been some time since Eragon had taken on a Rider personally. He would oversee all the training, but his approach was generally quite hands-off.

With a few more words the feast was officially in progress, and the surprise of Eragon's announcement was left to be talked about amongst the riders.

Ilia had been decidedly ignoring him, Eragon figured, for she was only talking to the Urgal who had taken seat on the other side of her. The interaction did do him glad; he'd honestly never pegged the girl to befriend an Urgal. Out of all the races that now graced his lands they were the ones who had received the most resistance; the first Urgal Rider that he'd sent back had been initially met with much opposition.

Eventually the girl saw fit to turn her attention to him. "So your babysitting sting extends beyond tonight," she said, picking at a piece of chicken.

Eragon offered a small grin, "Seems that way."

Ilia stared at him; she hadn't expected this man to be quite as infuriating as he was. So far he'd succeeded in playing her game, something that not many had even tried. "Why?"

The man gave a sigh and a dry chuckle before taking a swig of his wine. "Can't you just take it for what it is?" he knew she couldn't, so he continued, "I'm taking you on myself because you seem to have certain qualities that might be hard for one of my trainers, as experienced as they are, to truly understand."

Not sure whether to take this as an insult or a compliment, Ilia eyed him carefully. "And what exactly do you mean by that?"

"Your mental defenses are far above anything I've ever seen, and you've no history of magical training. I have my hunches, and I would guess that it has something to do with your radiant personality and charming attitude towards all of us, and I don't want to put anyone else through that." She wanted the truth, so he gave it to her plain and simple.

Eragon could see the anger on her face and he could practically feel the mental walls that she was putting up now; obviously he'd touched a nerve. After another swig of wine he grinned and grabbed her hand, "Come on then, let's dance." And before she could protest he used his superior strength to drag her to the dance floor.

Calmer of the Storm: Okay, so maybe it's evil of me to end it there, but I did. Sorry for taking so long; I haven't been overly motivated to be honest…reviews do help, haha. Just thought I'd throw that shameless plug in there.


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